Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blackout Freestyle, artist - Jadakiss. Album song Sour, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 11.06.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Indie Mixtapes
Song language: English
Blackout Freestyle |
Jay! |
Fuck that |
This is it right here, baby! |
You know what it is |
Yo, I used to have bad luck |
Now you might see me in a Jag truck |
Mad stuck, either with a dime or a bad duck |
Double-R tee with the matching bandanna |
.38-snub, blue steel with no hammer |
And I see y’all niggas tryna glance at the 'Kiss |
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist |
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon |
And you know I’m still writing the mean, lighting the green |
I need the bucket, even though I look, right in the beam |
Judge find out it’s my team, he boost they bails |
Niggas throw us on they album, try to boost they sales |
We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label |
'Cause them rednecks up in the mountains’ll try to slay you |
They call me raspy, tell you what I want you to know |
Fuck what you ask me, you probably don’t want me to blow |
I got a lot of horsepower so I’m able to skip |
Usually a good nigga, even though I’m able to flip |
You pay 30 for the 'Kiss (Uh-huh) a 100 for The L.O.X. |
(Yeah) |
And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop |
Whatever’s in the bank is my bet, a z-bull's my pet |
And you can bet he’ll get the legs and the neck |
Uh-huh, yeah, aiyyo |
Yo, when my gun bust, send niggas to the fish like Swanson |
New York’s youngest Bumpy Johnson, I put fear in y’all heads |
Sheek Louch, type of nigga gasoline y’all beds |
And that’s warning, if you all alive in the mornin', that’s fine |
Now I suggest you hit the block and get what’s rightfully mine |
I want PC, see me? |
Tuck in your chains |
I got niggas my pops' age that lifestyle ain’t changed |
It’s like, wake up, move a brick, half of it slow |
Make car money, check with Sheek, go fuck with a ho (ha!) |
I rock a waist length mink, do-rag under my fitted |
(Style on these niggas!) |
And I don’t even want waves, Timbs be halfway new (Huh?) |
That’s Sheek in the dress-up club cause I don’t fuck with shoes |
And for my nigga’s life, I swear to the Bible, let it be told |
I put thirty in your head, all in the same hole |
'Cause we got the same goal, and you try and tamper with mine? |
Don’t make me motherfuckin' leave you with some shit in your spine |
Fuck with me, you be a «was nigga»: «Nigga WAS dope» |
«Nigga WAS gettin money» 'fore I extorted your coke |
'Ju crazy? |
Aiyyo, catch me with a .38, box and shells |
In a '98 Lincoln, eating pasta shells |
Order to go, always got a box of Ls |
Blow, stay on the low, get a Heine and swig |
I’m Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig |
I pop shit 'cause I’m the second-best; |
the first was B.I.G |
Y’all niggas is sonned out, let me speak to your father |
'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver |
If I don’t like a nigga, I don’t even be bothered |
I spit, I’m just a crooked nigga going legit |
You hold your nine if you holding a brick, common sense |
Fed drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent |
L.O.X. |
get respect like Sonny from Bronx Tale |
Us and DMX: the Ruff Ryder cartel |
Thirsty to live, or y’all niggas eager to die? |
I tell all my niggas ride, you won’t leave with a dime |
Motherfucker! |
Yeah, yeah, I’m a monster |
I sleep whole winters; |
wake up and spit summers |
Ghetto nigga, putting up Will Smith numbers (Ugh!) |
Surrounded by Sixes and Hummers, bitches among us |
Trying not to let this bullshit become us |
It started from hunger, 'til it all went insane |
Now bitches notice the chains now that I hit my number |
The chickens I twisted (Ugh) see the digits unlisted (Yeah) |
The beeper done changed |
You dead, bitch; |
the Reaper done came |
I suggest niggas stop speakin my name |
'Cause trust me, y’all can still feel the heat in the rain |
I keep creeping, streets keep watching, I keep popping |
Niggas is hotheads and the bullets is heat-seeking |
Jay flow for pesos; |
chase hoes, NOT |
I just circle 'round the block in a drop |
Tell 'em jump through the top (Uh-huh) |
Where the sun roof used to be |
I can see y’all not used to me |
Nigga flows like none other (Ugh!) |
I’m the meanest, toughest Don Dada to gun-butt ya |
You the type that bust a lot of shots and none touch ya (Fuck) |
I’m the type that get excited, when the gun touch ya |
Motherfuckers! |
Ugh |
Y’all niggas bout to witness a dynasty like no other |
Uh uh-uh uh-uh |
Uh-huh-uh-huh uh, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… |
I’m headed nowhere fast (Ugh), runnin' in place, gat in my waist |
Niggas wanted a taste, but wouldn’t come to my face (Ugh) |
So what that mean? |
You cats is playin' games again |
So now what I do? |
Start namin' names again (WHAT!) |
All you motherfuckers know that I speak from the heart (UH!) |
Play like you don’t know, L.O.X. |
is gon' bark |
We can take it there, but to make it fair, get some more niggas |
Styles, Sheek, Jay… We comin' with like four niggas (AIGHT!) |
Y’all niggas best to stop playin' |
It’ll be the ones you forgotten about |
That’ll get you shot in your mouth |
ARF! |
ARF! |
Got my dogs covered (UH!) |
Plus it’s all gravy, like chicken when it’s smothered (WHAT!) |
It’s Dark, and I LOVE IT! |
(UH!) |
Get him, boy, let him loose (C'MON!) |
You want it with the dog or the gun? |
Let him choose (C'MON!) |